Darkness Descends
by Krista-Bentari
Summary: Krista Bentari is a Lost Moroi: she hasn't found her ability. She's spent her entire high-school portion at E. A. Poe School for the Lost trying to find what kind of user she is. But after an evaluator sends word to the Queen of this Lost Moroi, the court may be on the verge of discovering a new element, opposite of Spirit.


It's when he flicked me in the back of the neck that I slammed my book on the table and screamed over my shoulder to knock it the fuck off.

"Do _not_ do that while I'm reading!"

"Oh, shit!" he said through his snickers. I didn't mind him poking and prodding at me as a joke, but while I was at the climax of my book? Unacceptable. Pissing off a vampire isn't the best idea in the world, especially if she hasn't figured out her own ability yet. I could send him flying across the cafeteria with a gust of wind. I could drown him with a typhoon of water. I could drag him into the earth with a large root. I could set him on fire. That last one was the most appealing; if only I knew I could do it.

I'd gone through so much training and too many extra classes to try to figure out what kind of user I was: water, earth, fire, or air. It's entirely possible I could even be a spirit user, but I highly doubted that. I was really trying in those extra classes because I wanted to know what I could do; I was almost 19 and I still couldn't begin to know how to fight with the other Moroi. Which is what this school was specifically designed to teach us.

"Stop, Aber1," my boyfriend, Casimir, warned as he defended my personal space from him. He wasn't an avid reader like me, but he knew how much it meant to me. The next few moments of my session were spent going in and out of my imagination, trying to see what the author was describing to me while also trying to ignore the hustle behind me.

"Knock it off, both of you!" I growled.

"At least he's trying to stop me," Aber reassured. But I wasn't moved.

I shut my book and stood.

"You leaving already?" Casimir asked, not at all seeming upset. Good to know he'd miss me.

"Yes. I'm sick and tired of you. And your 'boyfriend'." That earned me a beaming smile from Aber and a hearty laugh from Casimir. They had this whole charade going that it was them who were dating and Aber was just sharing Casimir with me, which didn't bother me at all normally. I knew it was a joke. I just wasn't up for joking right now, no thanks to my "loving significant other"; he was already in A LOT of trouble.

"Ok, bye then," he replied dully. I scoffed in disgust and trumped off, book and bag in hand, to my history class. He made me so angry sometimes it's a wonder he's stayed with me. It's only been a month and I cry myself to sleep every night in fear that he'll leave me for being too critical or for being mad at him all the time or because he feels like he can never keep me happy and isn't good enough for me. His intentions are good and I know he cares and I know he has a hard time showing it, but things have changed so quickly in the past month. He's a completely different person with me.

Which is why I've recently made the decision to cut him off from all things sexual.

I'd let our relationship progress to the next level far too soon, and we haven't had sex yet, but we've done pretty much everything else there is. Which, I believe, is the cause for his behavior. Ever since then, he's been distant, more joking (in a rude, offensive sort of way), not as willing to want to be with me, leaning more towards the "taking advantage of me" state of mind. It freaks me out. I know what it feels like to be used, and it's not fun. I'm not about to go through that again, so I've realized I have to stop him from turning into that sort of guy. Which I assume will be easy because I'm his first actual girlfriend. Most of this change in my beloved must be the cause of not knowing what to do.

Yes, my beloved.

He may be acting like a total douche as of late, but he's still my boyfriend, and I still adore him. I wouldn't say I love him – it's only been a month – but my feelings are strong for him; I care about him a lot.

I sit down in the classroom, front desk against the right wall; not my usual seat, but I've opted to sitting away from friends (as of just now) in order to avoid distractions from thoughts about how I'm going to go about my problem. I open my computer and open my email, only to find no solution to my stress: no email from the members of my English class group. There's a project due tomorrow on "The Tell-Tale Heart" and only one of us bothered to show up at the scheduled group meeting this morning in the library. Me. I was hoping for a reason why they didn't come or at least a response telling me they looked at the presentation. It's not like they can't access it; it's online.

I put my laptop back into my bag and refuse to let it bother me; if they don't know what they're doing, their loss. I'm perfectly capable of presenting it by myself.

The next hour and fifteen minutes went by well. I learned all I needed to about Martin Luther uninterrupted. But the psychology class that followed was torture – which it always is – so I used that time to finish my book.

I went back down into the cafeteria to find my boyfriend gone. Which is common; he has a class until 3:15 like me, but at a different school, so he'd return at around 4.

I received an email from one of my professors, my private lessons professor to be exact. The professor assigned to me to help me figure out my ability. I'd been with her ever since I started at this school, so… five years. This school doubled as a high school and a college, and I had just entered my college years. Much like other schools, it's a specialty school, but rather than center its focus around art or science or technology, its focus was trying to help Lost Moroi find their ability. There are only a handful of these schools, because a vampire not knowing their ability is very rare, but it happened, so it's needed. But anyone attend.

E. A. Poe School for the Lost, rightfully named after the Moroi that founded it, was the first of its kind and the best out there. Until, that is, I was sent there. I had spent my five years of training trying all styles of fighting trying to find out what kind of user I am: attempting to start fires on demand, bring plants to life, turn vapor into water, create small, swirling tornadoes, and even bring life to small, deceased animals. That was part of spirit and, I admit, a little more difficult than the other elements, but simple enough for a person like me. But all to no avail.

The email demanded I meet my professor, Mrs. Evie-Blanch Menna, in her room immediately. Guess I won't be seeing Casimir any time soon. Good. I stepped into the threshold of the training room, stripped bare of any elemental help, leaving only the soft, padded floor and walls with extended bars and rock walls.

"Yes, ma'am?" I asked as I dropped my stuff on the floor, carefully, remembering I have a laptop encased within.

"I'm going to try something new today," she said, her backed turned to me. I couldn't quite make out what she was doing, but I didn't move to get a better look.

"Ok, what am I gonna do today?"

She turned, to my relief revealing nothing in her possession. My heart quickly sunk, though, knowing that whatever she had prepared for me was beyond my knowledge and could possibly be life-threatening. I wouldn't put it past her.

"Do you remember the man who came in to evaluate us last week?"

I remember him well, little frail thing. I answered as such.

"Remember what he said at the end?"

I thought back to the visit, remembering that he was there to assess the progress of helping me become "not Lost". It was the first time anyone had ever come for this reason (the first time anyone had come at all, actually), and I could tell we were going to have a lot to answer to when the higher ups found out how Lost I really was. But there was something at the end that confused both myself and my professor.

" 'Her eyes…like Strigoi, but not…'"

I distinctly remember that I almost keeled over at that comment. I knew my eyes were different, but never – NEVER - had anyone ever compared them to those of the undead, monstrous fiends.

Mrs. Evie-Blanch rolled her eyes. "What _else_ did he say?"

" 'Those purple rings…they surround the deep black within. The dark, gaping, endless opening that allows access to her brain'." He must have not been from around here, because that was way too scientific for my liking. " 'Like…portals into a different dimension…a realm of shadows…'" After that, he walked off. Not another word after that. I was blown away by that.

"I didn't like him," I spoke aloud. Mrs. Evie-Blanch was not amused.

"That last part. About the shadows. It got me thinking." She turned away again.

"Thinking about what?"

"You may not be as lost as the Queen might believe." Good to know my problem had been brought to the queen's attention without me knowing it. But the news that I might actually have an ability trumped that.

"And?" I needed to hear the rest.

"It may be a completely new element. Altogether unheard of."

I almost fell over.

"Like spirit?"

"Yes, but all elements must have an opposite."

Then it clicked. The opposite of Spirit. The opposite of life and light.

"Death," I whispered.

My teacher laughed. "Not exactly. Myself and your evaluator believe it to be the manipulation of the night. We've termed it Shadow."

That time I did fall to my knees. As I toppled over onto my side, right before blacking out, the faint thought of being able to manipulate darkness registered, and I gave in to the very thing that may as well change the way Moroi and Strigoi live.

1 Short for Abernethy


End file.
